Feeling Exhausted!

Today I am just tired.

Tired, tired, tired.

I feel like I am carrying this heavy weight around with me all of the time, and I can't seem to find a way to put it down. I wake up, trudge through my busy days...getting Liam ready for school or daycare, getting us dressed for the frigid weather outside, getting Liam into the van, getting Liam dropped off, work, suppers to prepare (or help clean up after...I don't cook too often. It's better that way!), bathtime, stories to read, clothes to put out for the next day, toys to pick up, dishes to finish. All very normal things. Things I enjoy doing! But lately by the time I am finally able to just "sit" at the end of the day...I am just beat. 

Emotionally, physically and mentally just exhausted.

Is it horrible to admit that I am just tired about thinking of my dead son?  I am tired of even having a dead son.  I am tired of seeing his perfect face every single time I close my eyes, and knowing that  will never see it again in this lifetime.  I am tired of feeling so cheated and so defeated.  I am tired of seeing reminders of pregnancy everywhere, and thinking "that should be me still!"  I am tired of questioning everything I thought I knew about life. 

I am tired of pretending like I am back to "normal" when I am at work.  I am tired of acting "normal" but feeling so completely not normal.  I am tired of wondering whether or not today is the day I finally lose it.  How can I be coping this well?  Should I still be at home, unable to leave my bed like other babyloss mothers I have heard from?   

I am tired of my heart breaking on a daily basis every single time I read about another mother who has lost her baby.  I feel like I need to be a part of this community.  This group of woman who have gone down the road I am on, and who have survived (are surviving?).  But I pay a price for it.  I feel this immense sadness for each and every person touched by the death of their child, and often go to bed with the names of dead babies in my head.  Because each of them had weight in this world and their names deserve remembrance.

I am tired of talking about death.  All of the time.  Like it is such a normal thing to talk about.  I sometimes find myself discussing things like urns and autopsy's like they are a normal part of conversation, until I catch this glimmer of horror in the face of whomever I am talking to, and I remember that they are still on the other side.

I am tired of trying to gauge my emotions.  Am I happy right now? Sad? Angry? What the hell am I feeling?  Am I ready to start trying to conceive another child? If not now, when? Will I ever be truly ready again?  What if this happens again? What if we have a girl next time and Liam is the only boy on Bills side of the family, but he's not really the only boy because of Oliver.

Gah! I am just....tired.  And cranky tonight apparently. Maybe I will diverge into another happier topic... 

Valentines Day is tomorrow, and I could care less.  Weird.  I am more excited that it is pajama day at Liams preschool and I have wrangled my work schedule so that I can at least drop him off.  I so badly want to have the picture of him running off in his monster pjs and slippers, to keep me company throughout my day tomorrow.  How I adore this boy!  I watched him in the tub tonight, all long limbs and big smiles, and wondered when it was that I blinked and he grew into a "boy" and not a "baby."  He is such a constant source of amazement and wonder for me.  And probably the only true reason that I am coping as well as I am right now.  His laughter and zest for life are so contagious, I just get swept up.  And I am totally content to live in his world for awhile.  On the floor, happily playing with trains and cars, and wondering when it is time for a peanut butter sandwich. How I wish Ollie could join us! He would probably adore his big brother as much as I do. 

Thinking about God...

Kind of a deep post tonight...

My relationship with God has never been easy and straight forward.  It has always been a twisting path of hills and valleys, bumps and roadblocks.  But it is a path that I walk gladly, knowing that I can never truly lose my way.  I am learning that the easy paths are not always the best.  We learn and grow so much from all of the detours along the way. 

I think my personality tends to lean more towards the questioning of things.  I like to understand how things are the way they are before I make any decisions.  For example, this weekend we stopped in to our car dealership in plans of trading in our existing van for a new model.  All was going well until the very end.  I suddenly felt like I just didn't have ALL the facts to make such a huge decision.  The walls started to close in and I just had to get out of there.  Basically, I panicked.  I needed to see the numbers and the facts on a page and just mull it over.  I pulled my shit together though and we were able to complete our purchase (while I waited in the van with Liam so as not to freak out again!).  Kind of a weird example. But there you have it. 

When it comes to God, I will be the first to admit that I have always had trouble just believing.  I believe that Jesus existed.  I believe in the fundamental goodness that is innate in all of us.  But God.  One power.  Ruling over everything.  I have always had trouble feeling comfortable and at home in that place.  As much as I wish I could just get there, it seems to be an ongoing journey for me.  I think God is probably okay with that. 

Lately I seem to be feeling a shift in my relationship with God.  Brought on, I am sure, by my son's passing.  Where do you turn to when it seems like the whole world is just suddenly out of focus? Who do you yell at and curse when there is no one or nothing to blame for something so unimaginable happening to you? Who do you bring your innermost fears and doubts and questions to when you are ashamed to even say them out loud?  For me it has been God.

I have been trying to go to church more these last few weeks.  Trying to find a parish that fits me (and hopefully Liam).  I attended mass at Our Lady of Sorrows this morning with a friend and colleague.  It was pretty well filled to the rafters with people which I loved.  Just walking in the doors you could feel this sense of joy and community as everyone came together to worship.  And I found it so fitting that at the front of the church was this beautiful stained glass window depicting Mary.  Most often you see Jesus on the cross front and center in Catholic churches (at least the ones that I have been to).  Jesus and the cross were certainly there today, but it was Mary that watched over us.  During my long night of labor with Oliver, it was Mary that I prayed to and seemed to sense around me.  During the next hard days, it was Mary that I wept to. I think this church may be a fit.

I am praying that this new found devotion to my faith will continue on.  Sometimes I "pick up" something only to put it away again for awhile.  Cross-stich, sewing, painting, learning Italian, learning French, knitting, crocheting.  I am hoping that doesn't happen this time.  I feel like I just need Him right now.  To help me find my way out of the dark places I often find myself in.  To help me find a way to be the new version of myself (I know I can never just go back to the person I was before).  To lead me down the path that I should be on, and to ease my burden from time to time.  I am praying that there is some greater purpose to all of this happening. 

I was thinking today about how things in life are preordained by God.  That there was never going to be a version of my story in which Oliver lived and we got to spend this lifetime with him.  My brain goes over and over what could have been done differently...could we have saved him somehow?...so this thought today brought with it a little peace.  There was never a tomorrow that had Oliver alive and well in it.  That was not his path.  I can't say that I will ever stop imagining this pretend tomorrow, but it helps to know that God has a plan for all of us.  For some reason that only He knows, this it what my story looks like.  I am hoping he is a little kinder to me in the next few chapters, but if not, then that is already written as well and I know He will be there with me. 

So now, I just pray for the future.  I pray that God will watch over all of those I love here on Earth and that he will be with us all in the times that we most need Him (and especially in those times that we don't think that we do).  I pray that He will grant me peace and help me on this journey.  I pray that he will someday bless Bill and I again with another living child.  I pray that Oliver's memory will never, ever fade and that I can someday remember him with only a smile.  I pray that I can find a way to incorporate Oliver into our daily lives so that Liam will grow up knowing and loving his brother.  And I pray, most of all, that Ollie is safe in Heaven and is just waiting for us all to get there.